Don't Panic
by x-HotMess
Summary: His face drained of colour as there beneath the aspirin and iPod was a little white box. Was she p…p…pregnant? Nate/Mitchie


"I'm home!" Nate called out to an apparently empty apartment. "Hello?"

"Hi!" a tall figure sat up from a lying position on the couch.

"Gah!" Nate jumped, stumbling backwards. "Shane? You scared the crap outta me! What the heck are you doing here? Where's Mitchie?"

"Sorry but not really, I need to talk to you, and I have no idea," Shane answered all three questions at once as he straightened his clothes and waited for Nate to put down his bag and take his jacket off.

"I wonder where she is," Nate mumbled to himself, going to plop down next to Shane on the sofa.

"Probably out buying shoes or something," Shane shrugged.

"So, what do you need to talk to me about?" Nate rubbed his eyes tiredly and looked at Shane expectantly.

"Well, I might have done something that might make everyone freak out and not want to talk to me again," Shane bit his lip and suddenly became fascinated with his shoelaces.

"Dammit, Shane, what the hell did you do?" Nate rolled his eyes.

"It's not THAT bad. Well, it is kind of bad. Bad as in 'I was thinking with my pants not my brain' bad, and I just… I hope she doesn't regret anything, because I sure don't, but I have no idea because she won't even talk to me, and she probably hates me! I hope not though. Because then everyone else will go spare if it turns out that she thinks I'm a…"

"Shane! Rambling!" Nate cut in frustratedly. "Look, why don't you figure out what you want to say about this girl, and I'll get us a drink,"

Nate stood up and left a grumbling Shane in the living area as he sauntered into the kitchen. He pulled out a couple of Coronas, and as the fridge door clinked shut, he heard a key turn in the lock and a familiar step enter the apartment.

"Oh, hey Shane!" Mitchie was looking warily at a fuming Shane muttering to himself as Nate walked back in.

Shane didn't even respond, he just got up and started pacing, mumbling incoherently.

"What's up with him?" Mitchie hissed to Nate, before he pecked her lightly on the mouth.

"Dunno. He's done something that will probably make us mad, but he won't elaborate," Nate huffed.

"He makes us mad on a daily basis, what's the big deal?" Mitchie chuckled, sending another bemused glance in Shane's direction.

"Beats me," Nate shrugged, leaning in to kiss Mitchie again, but stopped and wrinkled his nose. "You smell gross."

"My cousin's baby puked on me when I went to have lunch with her today," Mitchie sighed. "I'm going to go get changed."

"Yeah, you do that," Nate nodded and backed away from his girlfriend. She punched him lightly on the shoulder and made her way into their bedroom.

"Shane? Ready to talk?" Nate focused his attention on his bordering clinically insane friend.

"I have a headache just _thinking_ about it," Shane stated bluntly, sitting on the coffee table and burying his head in is hands.

"I think Mitchie has some aspirin in her purse," Nate picked up the leather bag Mitchie left by the door, and delved into the clutter.

Ipod, lip gloss, book, cell phone, old receipts, sunglasses, tissues, scarf, why the heck did Mitchie have a hacky-sack in there? Aha. Aspirin. Nate picked up the silver packaging triumphantly, when another out of place object caught his eye. It wouldn't have attracted that much attention, apart from the fact that it seemed to be purposely stuffed into the bottom of the bag. Like Mitchie _wanted _to hide it. Nate picked it up curiously and squeaked loudly when he realised what it was.

"What's the matter?" Shane glanced up at the un-Nate-like sound.

"Mitchie might be pregnant," Nate blurted out, spinning around to face Shane in astonishment, with a white pregnancy test box tightly in his hand.

"What?" Shane leapt up, his face mirroring the shock on his best friend's face.

"It would explain a lot. She's been real moody and secretive lately, and she was really sick a few days ago!" Nate stared at the box in his fist like it was about to explode any second

"I thought that was because you gave her the stomach flu you had last week!" Shane retorted, striding over to Nate, snatching the test out of his hand and burying it back in Mitchie's purse. "Dude, whatever you do, don't panic. It might be nothing!"

"Or it might be everything!" Nate dropped the bag and ran both hands through his hair. "What am I going to do?"

"Beats me, pal!" Shane threw his hands in the air in bewilderment. "You're on your own with this one!"

"Thanks for the support, _pal!_" Nate sneered, but his dark look immediately subsided as Mitchie emerged from the bedroom.

"Mitchie! Hi!" he exclaimed, earning him a confused look from her and a flustered one from Shane.

"Hey there," she laughed uncomfortably. "I was just about to start dinner. You want to stay, Shane?"

"No!" Nate shouted. When once again he got awkwardly peculiar looks, he waved his hand dismissively. "What I meant to say was, don't worry about dinner. I'll make it!"

"You hate cooking dinner!" Mitchie raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Nonsense! I love to cook!" Nate took three broad steps forward, taking Mitchie by the shoulders and steering her towards the armchair. "Tonight is a night for you to relax, put your feet up, and let me pamper you."

Mitchie was forced to sit, exchanging perplexed glances with Shane, who shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"Look, I'm going to get a beer," Mitchie started to get up.

"I'll get it!" Nate pushed her back down into the chair and dashed into the kitchen. "Except how about a nice orange juice instead?"

Mitchie sighed and stood up, looking at Shane. "What do you want for dinner? I know he's going to burn something in there."

Shane winced and nodded in agreement as the sound of metal on metal clanged from the other side of the wall. "Your boyfriend has turned into a lunatic."

"Just what I need," Mitchie shook her head and started to walk towards the kitchen, but Nate caught her halfway.

"What are you doing? Go sit back down!" he demanded.

"Are you feeling okay?" Mitchie reached out and placed a hand on Nate's forehead, checking for a fever.

"Fine! Peachy! Go and relax! I have everything under control!" Nate reassured her, taking the hand on his forehead in both of his, and gently nudging her away from the kitchen.

"Doubtful," Shane snorted, and Nate glowered at him. Sensing the tension building, Shane decided to make a quick exit out of the room. "I have to pee."

"Nate, I don't mind helping, really. It's not like you don't need it," Mitchie laughed, dodging him and making her way into the kitchen. "Have we got any Coronas left?"

"Yeah, but… wait! You can't have one! Just have water or something!" Nate spun around and chased after her, slamming the fridge door shut just as Mitchie opened it.

"Nathaniel! I want a beer!" Mitchie stomped her foot in frustration.

"Mitchie, no! Don't you want to make sure before you risk it?" Nate matched her disgruntled tone.

"Risk what? Nate, what is the matter with you?" Mitchie blew her bangs out of her eyes angrily.

"Well, you don't want anything to happen to our baby, do you?" Nate's eyes softened as he reached out and placed a hand over Mitchie's stomach protectively.

"Our _baby?_ What the…" Mitchie face blanked as she realised why Nate was acting so strange. "You… you think I'm pregnant?"

"Aren't you?" Nate furrowed his brow.

"No!" Mitchie scoffed incredulously. "I'm on birth control pills!"

"Then… why do you have a pregnancy test in your purse?" Nate stuttered.

"That's not for me, that's for… someone else," Mitchie caught herself halfway through a sentence.

"Who?"

"No one."

"Mitchie, who's it for?" Nate pressed urgently, taking a inquisitive step forward.

Suddenly, they were distracted by the toilet flushing, in addition to the sound of their front door opening and closing again, and someone else entering. "Mitch, do you have it? I just want to get this over and done with!"

Mitchie met Nate's shocked eyes, bit her lip and nodded guiltily. Nate's jaw dropped as she shouted back a reply. "It's in my purse!"

Nate turned on her heel and left the kitchen, making his way towards the front door, where a familiar girl was rummaging through Mitchie's bag, not unlike he had been doing earlier. She pulled out the same white box, staring at it with the same apprehension.

"Oh my God," he breathed.

At the sound of his voice, she looked up, startled. Her face fell as she saw the scandalized look on his face. "Nate…"

"Oh my God, Caitlyn, are you pregnant?" Nate blurted out, walking over to face her.

"No! Well, possibly! I'm not sure, okay, why do you think I have this?" Caitlyn clocked him on the head with the small box in her hand.

Nate just gaped at her, exchanging frantic glances between her flat stomach, her worried face, and the foreboding box in her hand. "Shit."

"Tell me about it," Caitlyn sighed.

"Who's is it?" Nate pressed tentatively, well aware that she wasn't seeing anyone.

Caitlyn narrowed her eyes to tell him to mind his own business, when Shane walked out of the bathroom with his head down. He looked up, caught sight of Caitlyn and Nate, and froze. When she saw him, the shock and mortification in Caitlyn's eyes gave her away immediately, and Nate looked between her and Shane in disbelief.

"SHANE? Caity, you slept with Shane?" he shrieked.

"What?" an equally loud shriek was heard from the kitchen, and Mitchie came dashing out. "Caitlyn! Why didn't you tell me? _Shane's_ the father?"

"Father?" Shane's face drained of all colour, as did Caitlyn's, and Mitchie looked horrified.

"Oh, crap! Caity, I'm so sorry!" Mitchie covered her mouth with her hand.

"Guys, what's going on?" Shane looked nervously from the flabbergasted looks on Nate and Mitchie's faces, to the panic-stricken one on Caitlyn's, to the box in her hand. "What's that?"

"Nothing!" Caitlyn squeaked, hurriedly hiding her hands behind her back.

Shane squinted at her suspiciously and took a dangerous step forward. "Is that what I think it is? Is that what Mitchie's talking about? Caitlyn, honey, are you…"

"Knocked up? Got a bun in the oven? With child? " Caitlyn spat, looking at the ground disconcertedly. "Maybe. I'm two weeks late."

Shane's face became totally emotionless, and he put a hand out and rested it on Caitlyn's shoulder. She looked up and met his gaze, and they shared an indecipherable look.

Nate looked between them, silently took Mitchie's hand, and they slowly backed out of the apartment, before making a run for it down the corridor.

"Caitlyn and Shane. Shane and Caitlyn. Holy shit!" Nate murmured, as they finally came to a stop in front of the elevator doors.

"I thought they didn't even like each other," Mitchie said in the same disbelieving tone.

"They obviously like each other more than we thought," Nate shook his head in disorientation.

"What do you think they're gonna do if she is pregnant?" Mitchie bit her lip.

Nate shrugged. "No idea. I just don't want to be in the same room with them if they can't decide."

"Not even in the same building! Remember when they had that massive fight over the rights to the song we all wrote?"

"How could I forget? And when they couldn't decide on what movie to watch on the tour bus?"

"God, we were stuck hiding out the back for hours while they battled it out," Mitchie nodded along reminiscently.

Nate just looked back along the hall in the direction of his and Mitchie's apartment. He couldn't hear any yelling yet, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to happen. Shane and Caitlyn with a dilemma were like an explosion waiting to happen. And you sure as hell don't want to be around when it does happen. He looked back at Mitchie and shrugged helplessly.

"Jason's?"

"Yep."

--

"Hey, guys! Come right in! Bridget's already made enough spaghetti for everyone," Jason greeted them on his front porch.

"Sorry for the late notice," Mitchie apologized as they walked in, but Jason waved her off dismissively.

"Hi guys!" Jason's wife Bridget waved to them as they entered the dining room, before opening her mouth and bellowing, "Kids! Dinner! Nate and Mitchie are here!"

"Nate? Mitchie?" a squeal came from the second floor and the house rumbled as two pairs of feet came gallivanting down the stairs.

"Hey, kiddos!" Nate greeted the four year old twins as they screeched to a stop in the doorway.

"I wanna sit next to Mitchie!" Stephanie pushed her brother out of the way to climb into the seat beside Mitchie.

"Good! I don't want to sit by Mitchie, she has cooties!" Alexander pouted, despondently sitting down between Nate and Jason.

"Alexander! That's not very nice!" Bridget reprimanded him, earning a sulky look in her direction.

"Yeah, not all girls have cooties, dumdum!" Stephanie giggled, poking her tongue out.

"Stephanie, stop tormenting your brother, or you won't get any icecream after dinner!" Jason warned, and Stephanie sat up straight and squeezed her lips together innocently.

"Why are Nate and Mitch here?" Alexander asked cheerily, before slurping up a long strand of spaghetti.

"That is a very good question, Alex," Jason laughed, looking at his friends expectantly.

Nate and Mitchie exchanged glances, before Mitchie responded. "We think Shane and Caitlyn are having a fight in our apartment."

She conveniently left out what the fight may have been about. Jason looked as if he wanted to know more, but was smart enough not to bring it up in front of his kids.

"Say no more," Bridget smiled knowingly, passing both of them a steaming bowl of bolognaise "You two are always welcome, anytime."

"Thanks, Bee. This smells delicious!" Nate smiled warmly as he helped himself.

The rest of dinner was relatively uneventful. Stephanie explained to Mitchie, in precise detail, what exactly was so great about her new soccer ball. Alexander spilt spaghetti bolognaise sauce on him three times, and icecream only once, and new record. Jason discussed some new song ideas with Nate. But all hell was raised when Bridget announced it was time for bed. Stephanie looked at Nate with tear-filled eyes and a puppy dog pout that reminded him of Jason's face when he didn't get what he wanted, while Alexander, forgetting all about cooties, clung on to Mitchie for dear life, whinging in a voice much louder than necessary. They were only persuaded to leave the table with a promise of a goodnight song from Nate and Mitchie once they were tucked in bed and behaving nicely.

"You guys can take a seat in the lounge room if you want," Jason waved them off as he wrangled Stephanie up the stairs. "This shouldn't take long, but with these guys, you never know…"

Nate got up and offered his hand to Mitchie, who grinned and took it lightly. Leading her into the lounge room like Bridget suggested, Nate swept a Tonka truck and various Dora the Explorer books off the couch, before sitting down and pulling Mitchie into his lap.

"Please tell me you are one hundred percent sure that you're not pregnant," Nate sighed, burying his face in her shoulder.

"I'm sure," Mitchie laughed and kissed his forehead. "Though I must say, you seemed pretty excited when you thought I was pregnant before."

"Excited isn't really the right word. Anxious, more like it. Unprepared. Or how about completely and utterly freaked out?" Nate shook his head as he looked fearfully at the overabundance of Spongebob merchandise and half broken Lego pieces scattered around them.

"Still, I'm very impressed. Most guys wouldn't have handled it as well as you," Mitchie reached up and absentmindedly toyed with his curly hair.

"Ah, Mitchie, you seem to forget that I'm not most guys," Nate grinned up at her.

"Right you are. Still, it's nice to know that you wouldn't freak out and abandon me if I was indeed up the spout," Mitchie smiled and ghosted her fingers across his lips.

"Heck, no. I'd support you with absolutely everything. I love you, Mitchie." And with that, Nate leaned forward to press his lips firmly against her own.

Mitchie broke away after a few seconds and cupped his cheek in her hand, beaming. "Thanks, Nate. I love you too."

"So, I think we've had our kid talk about three years too early," he shrugged, grinning.

"And I don't want any children for at least another five," she giggled, pressing another kiss to his nose.

The romantic moment was somewhat spoilt by a loud thud from upstairs, followed by a piercing whine.

"Daddy! Alex won't share!"

"It's mine, you have your own!"

"I don't like mine! Yours is girlier!"

"It is not! Stop it, Steph! Leave me alone!"

"Ow! MOOOOOM!"

"I swear if you two keep this up, Santa is going to leave coal in both of your stockings!" Bridget's exasperated voice cut in.

"That's okay, Santa isn't even real!"

"He _ISN'T?_"

**Crash. Bang. Crunch. **

"Maybe ten years?" Nate raised his eyebrows, and Mitchie nodded fervently in agreement.

* * *

_That was fun :)  
__Yeah, um, not sure about Shane and Caitlyn. I wanted to focus on Nate's reaction (*squee*), so you can make up your own minds on how they turned out.  
__**Review**__ fluff of the Nitchie plxthx._


End file.
